


until the evening gets late

by pistolgrip



Series: 12+1 days of siesixmas [6]
Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Feelings Realization, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:08:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21856603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pistolgrip/pseuds/pistolgrip
Summary: It starts with asking Six to help him buy Christmas presents for the Eternals, and like many things, it ends with him making a fool of himself.
Relationships: Siete | Seofon/Six | Seox (Granblue Fantasy)
Series: 12+1 days of siesixmas [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570165
Comments: 21
Kudos: 46





	1. the time is right, your perfume fills my head

If he followed this story to its beginning, he would stand face-to-face with a revelation that should have been obvious from the start. But it's not until he takes the time to unwrap the three weeks prior to Christmas that he finds a revelation that was so slow to bloom that he didn't see it take root.

**i.**

The first snow of the season falls upon Siete's weary figure as he trudges back to the base. It's late November, but the themed holiday bandits are already emerging, and they've always got a little more energy than the average bandit.

He wants nothing more than to rest for the night, dragging his feet as he rubs at his face, but the moonlight reflecting off the snow lifts his spirits for long enough to keep him from collapsing. The quiet hush that falls over the landscape whenever snow is on the ground feels like magic, enveloping him in serenity.

Ignoring the front door of the base, he walks around with the intention of sitting in their garden and watching the snow fall before he rests for the night, but he's not the only one with the same idea. Standing among the snow-covered flowers of their garden stands Six, in uniform without armour, his cape wrapped around him, stubborn in his refusal to admit that he was cold. It's impossible that he hadn't hear Siete's approach, but he doesn't greet him.

Siete stops where he is, leans down to make a snowball, and rears back—and then, he pauses. Except for how tightly his cape is wrapped around him, Six looks at peace, head tilted up to the sky. They could have this quiet moment together, where they watch the snow fall and say nothing until they part ways. But the image catches him off guard. Each heartbeat fires into his chest like a gunshot, and with the world curtained by the winter's hush, the stage is set for Siete's heart to burst out and bleed in front of Six, revealing his red blood to dot the canvas of perfect, pristine, untouched white snow.

So—

Siete throws the snowball with as much force as he can, huffing with the exertion of chasing the image out of his mind. He aims true at Six's back, despite knowing that Six's reflexes are too sharp to allow that attack to connect.

As expected, Six whips around to slap the snowball out of the air, keeping the position when the snowflakes disperse to stare at him. Disappointment defines the half of his features not covered by his mask, and through the thundering in his ears, Siete grins back at him.

Six sighs. It rises against the black sky. "Nowhere in this base is there peace." Defeat weighs down every syllable, the same bone-deep tiredness that Siete was feeling moments ago.

Contrary to what Six says, Siete wants to believe that Six has found a different kind of peace by being part of a group like the Eternals, one that isn't necessarily tranquil peace. The Eternals give Siete himself peace of mind, different people with similar threads connecting them, and he's struck in this moment with how much he wants Six to come to the same conclusion some day.

Six tries to walk past him to go back inside, but Siete blocks his way. "Don't be like that, Six! It's the first snow! Nothing wrong with getting a little playful, right?" He knew that Six escaping would be the most likely outcome, but in his attempt to protect himself from realizing something irreversible, he'd only solidified it in his heart, now only beating with one rhythm: _Come stay. Enjoy the snow. Enjoy this pocket of time, with or without me._

The direct tone his thoughts take threaten to take over the shapes his lips form until he almost says something too fond. He thinks about shattering the air with another snowball again, something silly to ground him back into where he and Six stand in reality.

Six puts a hand on his arm to push him aside, and Siete exclaims, "Whoa, you're cold."

"I've been standing outside for a while."

"Giving yourself over to the darkness?" Siete snickers.

Six turns his head towards him by a fraction. The movement is filled with exasperation. "Do you insist on wasting my time?"

"Don't I always waste your time? Anyway, wait," he says, feeling like a man grasping for time he's lost and cannot longer regain, this must be what Six feels—Siete grabs the hand on his arm, and he realizes that Six isn't wearing any gloves.

He lets go to start removing his own, and Six is bewildered enough by the action to stand and stare at him. "What are you doing?" he asks, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"Here, take my gloves. Your hands are freezing!"

The moonlight reflects off the snow like a spotlight to illuminate Six's hands, bare and scarred and open for Siete to watch. He lifts his gaze to meet with Six's, and for a moment, under this sky, they say nothing—and then Six closes his hands into fists and pushes past him. "I'll be going inside."

"Nah, _I'll_ go inside. Penance for interrupting you, my snowy night for yours," Siete teases. "I just got back from a mission, so I need to rest. But you stay out here and brood all you like, so as long as you take care of those hands of yours!"

Siete takes his hands and slips his gloves on. They're his uniform gloves, and they're no winter mittens, but they're warmer than Six's. Six doesn't protest, staring at Siete's face. His gaze is piercing, trying to determine his intentions. He wonders if Six could find, underneath his nervous chatter and his shield of a smile, what he wishes he himself hadn't.

His fingers curl in Siete's gloves like they want to escape, but the warmth they offer must be too tempting, because he doesn't rip them off at first touch. "Why would I want to take care of these hands?"

"Alright then, be dramatic," Siete cajoles. But the falling snow dampens his tone until it becomes gentle. As much as Siete jokes, he wants to let Six know he's in good company with the Eternals, that they'll always look out for him. "Keep my gloves safe then while I go take a shower." Before Six can say anything else, he salutes, pivoting on his heel. "And don't hog all that snow before Fif wakes up!"

A blast of heat hits him when he opens the back door to the base, but the warmth that radiates from his heart persists, separate from the heat of the shower. He nearly falls asleep in the bath, so his short-lived idea of joining Six again fades away from him.

Before he goes to bed, he peeks out from behind his curtains to see Six shoveling away snow from the walkway, Siete's borrowed gloves glistening with scratched, scarred steel.

**ii.**

When he wakes up, Siete finds his gloves at the foot of his door, folded and with lingering warmth.

He's surprised to find Six awake and in the kitchen. During his time with the Eternals, Six's sleeping habits have become less nocturnal, but he must have had a hard time sleeping last night. If Siete could choose for himself, he'd sleep in, but he has something today that requires immediate attention.

"Good work out there last night," Siete greets as he walks in.

Six's ears don't even turn towards him, keeping his head down and waiting for his tea to cool down. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Shoveling the snow! I'll go toss some sand out on the walkways after breakfast, go get some rest."

"I have no need."

"So, if that means you have energy, do you wanna help me run some errands?"

"I cannot think of anything I would want to do less." Six takes a tentative sip from his mug, seeking an escape and finding none. The tea is still too hot.

"What if I say it's for the Eternals? Top secret, but very important."

Six turns to face him. He must be able to tell there's something strange about Siete's statement, which there is—it's a half-truth, half-lie—but Siete's banking on his sense of duty to take over and accept. There will come the day where Six can spend time off enjoyably without the pretense of missions, but if Siete's the one extending an invitation, he has to be eased into the idea.

There must come a point in which trying for Six's company is more effort than reward. That Six is learning that he's capable of flourishing with second chances and proving that his power could be used for good— _that_ should be enough, and for Siete, leader of the Eternals, it's more than he could ever hope for. But as Siete, a maybe-sometimes-friend, he wants to see Six _enjoy_ something.

"You're lying to me," Six says, shattering his thoughts.

He could double down, or he could admit the truth—but before he can choose, Six barrels on. "You're not making proper eye contact. There's no change in the ambient temperature, but you're close enough that I can tell your own body temperature is increasing, linked to your accelerating heart rate."

Goddamn, Siete doesn't even notice that's happening in his own body. He raises his hands, wearing an easy grin. "Alright, alright, just reveal all my secrets. I'm half telling the truth. I _do_ think what I have planned today will help the Eternals, but not in the way you'd expect."

Like last night—like most times, only half of Six's face is visible, but that's enough for the full force of his distaste. "If you need my assistance, then don't evade the subject."

"Here goes—I wanna go Christmas shopping for the Eternals today, and since you're awake, I thought I'd ask you."

The silence that follows is telling.

He shrugs. "Hey, it was worth a shot."

"If you're trying to raise morale, this won't work," Six says, turning back around to lean on the counter with his mug of tea, and the next retort Siete prepares dies in his mouth.

He blinks and, after biting the inside of his cheek, he smiles.

He knows that while friendship between the Eternals has improved over the past two years, it's still not as strong as he'd hoped. He knows that he might be the only one among the ten of them thinking about getting presents for the others this year. He knows that getting everyone presents for the holidays, no matter how big or how small, might not bring them together at all. "But even if it won't work," he starts, not knowing whether he's trying to convince himself or Six, "I gotta try at least, don't you think?"

"I think you should save your effort instead of undergoing this impossible cause." It's the answer Siete would expect from any one of them. "Furthermore, I am your worst choice of companion for this request."

Siete knows that too, but that response is less soul-crushing than the previous one, and the frozen smile on his lips defrosts. "Then consider this a great opportunity to learn about everyone? Well—no matter." He laughs it off as Six keeps his eyes on the window.

Siete is well-acquainted with the specific silence that emerges from anyone putting effort into ignoring him, most of all Six's. Maybe he's still rattled from last night, but it stings him more than it should today. "I've gotta go get ready while there's still sunlight, but you know, Six, I'd like it if you came along."

He's almost out of the kitchen when Six asks, "Why?"

There are any number of answers he could give Six. He looks over his shoulder to see Six, still not looking at him. He takes a chance. "I like your company."

Like he does with everyone else, he only tells him half truths. That's all.

**iii.**

The only person more surprised than Siete that Six has shown up in the foyer is Six himself, dressed in winter clothing and looking anywhere but Siete.

It's a perfect moment to tease him, but Siete thinks again of last night, of the moment he shattered by his own hands. He thinks of how he doesn't have to ruin the rare occurrence in which Six will keep him company, no matter how annoyed he seems.

He throws it all away to say, "So what convinced you? My charming personality? My dashing good looks?"

In anticipation of being in public, Six wears his full mask, but Siete imagines he wouldn't look too enthused underneath it. "The possibility that you would stop complaining if I followed along."

"Wrong gamble," Siete chirps as he puts on all his winter gear. "You've just got yourself an afternoon with yours truly and his big mouth!"

"As expected," Six complains.

He half expects Six not to follow, but when he opens the front door and gestures for Six to step out first, he only sighs before walking through.

It's only the first week of December, but every last corner of the town they visit is already decorated for Christmas. Holidays are his guilty pleasure, something that he never had time for while he was growing up; his childhood was exciting, but without the time to celebrate. That restlessness of moving from one event to another without rest became a part of him as he became a vagabond, and by the time he found Stardust Town, he much preferred to hold celebrations for others and give them a day of rest at his own expense. The decorations urge him to slow down and bask in the Christmas spirit, but Siete could never sit down to enjoy something until he could get everyone else to do so first.

However, it _does_ remind him that he's not here alone. He nudges Six with an elbow. "So," he starts, even though Six doesn't look at him, "I was thinking about buying presents for the girls first, because two of them just want food and that's easy enough."

He says it without meaning it—he's got other things in mind for them—but Six quips back, "Where are you going to contain food that it won't spoil or be discovered?"

"Fair point. Fif would know the second that I have sweets that I'm keeping from her, and Sarasa's nose is too strong to try hiding it anywhere that isn't the fridge. I was planning to put in an order for us to have a feast closer to Christmas as it were, so it wouldn't be so bad."

"You intend to come back," Six says more to himself.

With a laugh, Siete nudges him again, and Six swats him away. "You won't have to come with me then if you hate today so much, but let's get through today first, shall we? Nio, Song and Esser." Nio might be difficult, but the other two he can keep simple; like almost everyone in the Eternals, neither of them had a proper childhood. But unlike the rest, the two of them are open in their own ways about the desire to relax, just as young women do, without the pressure of the hand life dealt them. "I know there's a spa in this town, they could have a girls' day out. But that sounds so good I'd want a day like that for _all_ of the Eternals."

"All of us taking a day off at the same time would invite disaster."

"Not _all_ on the same day of course, but if I'm hearing correctly," Siete says, tilting down and grinning close to Six's face, "it doesn't sound like _you're_ saying no to a spa day—"

"Don't push your luck," Six grumbles, crossing his arms and leaning away. "Focus on what you're here for."

"I am. You're an Eternal and a friend, Six, which means I'm looking for presents for you, too. Oh, sorry"—Siete loads a bullet with his next words—"we're here for Eternals business, you might take that explanation better."

Six sighs, but he stays beside him. Siete waits for him to continue their casual back-and-forth, and when he doesn't respond, Siete considers it a point for him. Nothing wrong with being forward about—

About what? "Anyway!" Siete claps his hands, chasing away his train of thought before he loses the joking veneer he's prepared for today's expedition, the one that Six scrapes away so easily by just being by his side. They'll be here for a while. He can't let it fall away less than ten minutes before the begin. "The spa I'm thinking of is on the outside edge of the town, so that can be our final destination, we can see if they have any packages or anything."

Six pinches the bridge of his mask's nose. "Siete, Decide on something."

"Spa day out for all the girls, candy for Fif, might as well get Sarasa a whole free range to herself—how good are you with jewelry, Six?"

"Absolutely incompetent."

"Good, so am I."

"I see no point being here. I'll leave if you don't give me one proper reason to help you."

"I told you, I like the company. And you're good at keeping me in check."

"Is it also related to the fact that I was the only other one awake in the base?"

"That might have something to do with it." Siete winks, watching Six's doubt grow even stronger. "There's a jewelry shop nearby, and between the two of us, we'll find something. I believe in us."

He won't mention it either, but when he's this close to Six to needle him, he can tell he's shivering. Going inside to warm up wouldn't be a bad idea.

The first jewelry store they step into seems too fragile. Beside him, Six freezes in a way not caused by the cold, like he doesn't trust himself to be surrounded by anything that could be broken by clumsy hands.

Siete feels the same way as he does, and his nose scrunches up. He doubts that even Song could enjoy something from here, items for people more caged than free. The young women of the Eternals have been forged through fire, and they deserved more than the frail glass of this jewelry shop, so the two of them don't linger. They don't feel welcome, and as much as Six talks about growing used to being estranged, Siete can tell he's just as eager to leave.

They wander the streets, Six giving one word to Siete's hundred, and then Six stops to look at a storefront. Siete looks back at him and raises an eyebrow. It's not something he'd think Six would be interested in, but he might have found something worth looking at.

Entering this store is the complete opposite of the first one. This might be smaller, but plants hang everywhere and make the walls feel less claustrophobic. At the same time Siete notices the earthen smells mingling in the air, Six raises a hand to cough discreetly; if this place smells strong to Siete, then it must smell even stronger to Six.

The young woman at the counter has a smile that puts Siete at ease, and it doesn't take much to strike up a conversation about Christmas presents, gesturing at the jewelry. He decides on a custom made engraving of the Orion constellation onto a sapphire for Song and a spider lily barrette for Esser.

Six stays quiet throughout the exchange, and every time Siete glances behind him, he's in a different part of the store, smelling things or reading tags. As Siete hands over payment and scribbles a reminder to pick up the necklace in a week, the young woman calls over to Six. "Did you want to bring home a plant as well?"

This time, when Siete looks, Six is standing in the corner, shielded from the passersby in the windows by the hanging plants. Six's face is unreadable with the mask on, but he's reaching a hand out to a plant, unaware that he's being called for. "Six," Siete says, unable to bite back the grin that blooms on his face.

Six freezes, and then he crosses his arms. "No."

"Are you sure?" she asks, glancing at Siete instead of Six. With a small paper bag, she comes out from behind the counter and looks through all of the pots, before taking a freshly-fallen leaf from one the one Six was looking at and putting it in the bag. "This one could use a home."

He looks at her, down to the bag in her hand, before taking it with a sigh. His hands are careful as he places it inside one of his pockets.

**iv.**

"She just… gave you a leaf?" Siete asks when they exit. "What are you even supposed to do with that?"

Six pulls the hood over his head, ears twitching underneath to fit in the pockets. "With proper care, a new plant will grow from that leaf."

"Really? _One_ leaf that fell off?" The young woman's shop is filled with plants, so he doesn't doubt that it _could_ happen, but he can't see _how_. "What're you supposed to do?"

Sighing, Six marches on. He's always been a fast walker, but Siete's got longer legs, and they fall into an easy pace beside each other. Siete notices that he takes care not to jostle the pocket with the leaf in it. "For this one, fill a pot with soil and place the leaf on top."

He waits for more explanation, but that's all he gets. "No water? No sun?"

"You leave it alone." Six enunciates every word, complete with a look in his direction.

Whether or not those instructions are accurate, he gets the point. "Alright, plant expert. But keep me updated on those miracles you'll work with that leaf."

Six sighs, turning away from him, but never straying from his side.

**v.**

While they're here, Siete buys matching bracelets for all the girls of the Eternals, restocks for Fif's divination materials, a set of weights that feels like it'll break Siete's back for Sarasa, and a sewing machine for Esser. For Nio, he gets a new blanket—he's not equipped to buy anything musical, and he's already going to see at least one of Sky Philharmonic's Christmas concerts—and for Song, he gets a tea set and picks up enough extra mugs to make an even ten.

After the last purchase, Siete drops onto the first bench he finds, groaning. "Why are the guys so much harder to shop for?" he complains. Six sits next to him, putting the bags he's helping carry down by his feet. They've been passing off Sarasa's weights, and it's criminal that he doesn't bat an eye at having to carry them. "Uno I can figure out, I've known him long enough, but Okto is"—he interrupts here to make a sputtering noise, throwing his hands up in the air—"and you and Quatre never admit you like stuff."

"Your observation would be correct. I have nothing I care for," Six says.

"See, that's what I mean, though. You guys _like_ stuff, I know you're lying to me."

Six crosses his arms and leans back against the bench, debating whether he should bother with an answer. Siete leans into his space, and he sighs. "Then prove it."

"I'm not a human lie detector like you, but I've half the mind to come back to that shop we went to and get you a real plant for your room. Not just some measly leaf. We could set up a shelf, one of those heat lamps—didn't even have to be in your room, actually, we could do with some more out in the common room." He lets Six think that he's taking the idea somewhere on its own, wandering, and then he turns back with a cheeky grin. "Unless you want to tell me what you want for Christmas, instead of letting me plan for you."

After a moment of silence, Six's shoulders relax, arms still crossed. "There is one thing," he mutters, and Siete shuts this damned mouth of his in an instant, waiting for him to continue.

Six continues looking straight ahead, not once turning his head to Siete as he sighs, taking his time to say what he does.

"What I want you to do for me this Christmas is nothing. I cannot stop you from subjecting your torture onto the others, but you've asked me personally."

It shouldn't surprise him, but Six's delivery and the anticipation of Six opening up makes him burst out into laughter, doubled over with his head between his legs, until he feels tears spring to his eyes. "Don't ever let anyone tell you you don't have a sense of humour, Six," he wheezes.

"This is no joke." Six tilts his head down towards him.

"Oh, I _know_ you're serious. But if you don't want me to do anything for you this Christmas, does that also mean I shouldn't do your one request?"

Six's expression and pose doesn't change, but annoyance drips from his silence with every second that passes, and it's enough to make Siete laugh again. "No promises, Six, but you can rest easy knowing that I'm not finding a gift for you today, since you're here with me."

"That's all I can get from you, isn't it?"

Siete leans his elbow on his knee and puts his chin in his hand. "For today, yes."


	2. the stars get red and oh, the night's so blue

**vi.**

Siete immediately gets a gag gift for Quatre, but after trying and failing to find something for Okto that wasn't a mug with a quasi-motivational saying on it, he gives up. "We did well enough today," he dismisses, "I'll come back on my own when I go to pick up Song and Esser's gifts. Let's head back before they get back, so they don't see us carrying all this stuff and get suspicious."

Visible relief overcomes Six when he finally suggests that their day is coming to an end. "You may try," Six says as he stands up with their bags, not wanting to waste time. "Unfortunately, nothing passes the Eternals when they're curious."

"I know, I know. But the bigger gifts are out of the way now!" Siete stands with him, stretching.

"Big gifts you failed to account for."

"Okay, _maybe_. I was only looking for small gifts, cross my heart, and _technically_ they still are! Just…" He tries to find the words. "Big in space."

"A new sewing machine is substantial."

"Trust me, it's really a small thing, Esser's been mending things for Stardust Town by hand for a few weeks now since hers only works _sometimes_." It doesn't take long for them to enter a duet again, the same rhythm of give-and-take conversation that both of them are comfortable with.

With their backs on the busy town, they pass a chocolatier with aromas so strong that it stops him in his tracks. It isn't garnering as much attention as a location closer to the heart of the town would, but Siete takes it as a good sign for the two of them. Still looking at the storefront, he reaches a hand out to stop Six from walking on without him, but Six has stopped as well.

If the smell was too strong for him, he'd keep moving. But now, with both of interrupted during their mission of returning to their base, Siete's willing to bet on him having a sweet tooth. "I'm feelin' some hot chocolate," Siete says, testing the waters before cannonballing straight into them, nudging Six with an elbow before walking inside. Six follows, either because it's cold outside and starting to snow, _or_ because he has a sweet tooth.

The chocolatier hands them samples of hot chocolate, and the second the taste hits Siete's tongue, his eyes widen. "Okay, mister I-don't-like-anything," he starts, whipping around to face Six. "True that may be, you have to try one of these."

Six looks like he wants to cross his arms like he always does, but the bags are too heavy to do so. "If I play along with this final request, will you ask nothing else of me?"

"Cross my heart, I won't. Then we go back to the base, and you can sit in your room with your curtains closed and be all grumpy."

Six lets out a long sigh before putting the bags down on the ground. He takes the sample from Siete's hands like one would weeks-old garbage (and their fingers brush, but that detail isn't important).

He lifts his mask enough for his mouth to be visible, but Siete can still see how red his cheeks are from the cold. His lips are pale and drawn into a tight line as he sighs out through his nose, and then he takes a sip.

He takes the small cup away and freezes, lips parted. He clears his throat quietly, finishes the rest of the sample, and tosses the paper cup away. "That was sufficient." His words are muffled by the action of pulling the mask back down over his face.

Siete turns to the saleslady with a bright smile. "That's the most positive thing I've heard him say _all_ day. I'll take a whole bag of that."

"It—It wasn't that good." Six turns his head away.

"Who said it was for you?" Siete says, both to tease and to placate him. "If I don't get this for the rest of the holiday season, I'll die. Make that two bags—no, three," he mutters, frowning. "Someone in the base is absolutely going to eat this from the bag."

**vii.**

It's a miracle that their return to the base is uneventful, with Terra's curiosities placated when Siete puts a finger up to his lips and whispers _Christmas_.

Six helps him carry the bags into his room. He might poke fun at Six's room for being so barren, but his is hardly better. He might more keepsakes from his adventures lying around, but he has no pictures on the walls, no personal belongings where the others can see. He imagines the rest of the Eternals are similar, not having been at the base long enough to make a home here yet.

He's hoping for the _yet_.

Six leans against the closed door, watching instead of offering to help Siete fit everything into his closet. He wipes the sweat from his brow as he shoves Sarasa's back-breaking weights to the side, the sewing machine on the floor of the closet, and the small presents already in gift boxes piled up on top, topped off with a basket of yarn.

"That's all," Siete says, leaning up and stretching. "You're free for the rest of the day."

"Thank you for monopolizing my free time."

"Why, what did you have planned?" Siete teases. "Sitting in your room and looking out at the snow?"

There's a pause before Six responds. "Training. I'm not used to the cold weather. I need to learn how to fight in it."

"Was being outside all day today that hard for you?" He says this with genuine surprise, but with his tone from earlier, Six must be taking it as mockery, and he snarls.

"The temperature was uncomfortable."

Siete turns to him, who stands in front of the door (with his arms back in their rightful position, crossed against his chest), and he thinks he'll take out his own sewing machine to make something new for Six for the season. Not for Christmas—that's too far away, and Six already has problems with _this_ temperature, let alone the one three weeks from now.

"Well," he says, a plan forming in his mind as he looks at Six, "I've got a project to work on for now, so if you need me, I'll be here in my room."

"I'm sure I won't."

"Oh, and Six—before you head to the training room, could you put these in the kitchen?" He throws him two of the three bags of hot chocolate, and Six catches them without batting an eye. (At least, Siete imagines he's not batting an eye. He still has the mask on.)

"Not all three?"

"Listen, I wanna keep my hands on one of these for us. It's too good to let everyone else hog it."

Six tilts his head. "...'Us'?"

"Like, a commemoration of our first hangout where it didn't seem like you completely hated my company."

"Do you… not intend on consuming it?"

"Oh, I do. Just with you, is all. Our secret." Siete winks, and Six stares on. He could be doing anything under that mask, really. Siete's bet is that he's rolling his eyes.

Six grabs the bags and leaves without another word.

With him gone, Siete rifles through his closet for an old box of files, including the Eternals' measurements, and finds Six's. Sitting at his desk, he starts drafting up another version of Six's uniform, making sure that the gloves are warm.

**viii.**

He drafts for so long that the sound of his back cracking makes him wince, as does the late hour on the clock. He feels a little guilty that he's spending so much time on Six when there are surely other Eternals that get cold in the winter, but then again, they have other ways of keeping themselves warm. For example, Siete thinks while chuckling to himself, owning and wearing clothes that aren't their uniforms.

Back when Siete visited him in the Karm hamlet to recruit him, Six lived in little more than rags and what must have once been the Karm uniform. Six lives from one uniform to the next, as if taking it upon himself to live out a punishment by never living a life separate from duty.

As the leader of the Eternals, Siete's taking it upon himself to give him a day off. After a moment of revelation, he simplifies what he wants to do for Six's uniform, focusing instead of keeping it warm while not sacrificing the mobility and flexibility that Six needs.

Satisfied for now, he pushes it aside to stare again at the page of Six's measurments, the sketch of how the uniform fits on his body.

Six might wear almost anything if it was comfortable enough, but Siete doesn't decide to test that theory this time. It seems like a boring choice, but black, blue, and purple are safe enough for someone like Six. There are a few things he could make that wouldn't take too long so Six could be warmer sooner. He taps his pen against the desk for a few seconds, tongue out, and then he starts to pull together a design for new jacket.

Siete doesn't sleep that night, instead heading back to town in the morning to pick up fabric more suited to the weather. He takes a nap when he gets back, because he _still_ hasn't slept, but he gets right to work the second he wakes up. On a normal day, he would keep his open door for anyone to walk in, but today, he locks it. The sound of the sewing machine should alert anyone walking by about what he's busy with for the day.

While others might consider this unnecessary work on a day off, he takes comfort in having time to return to his sewing hobby. He leans back to stretch after a few hours of work, just in time to hear a knock at his door.

On the other side is Song, holding two mugs of hot chocolate with a smile. "Working hard?" she asks, holding out a mug.

The hallway lights are on. It gets dark early in the winter, but he didn't expect it to be late enough that the lights would already be on. "Yeah," he says, taken aback by how hoarse his voice sounds. "Come in."

Song settles in, and he gives the hot chocolate a good sniff before inhaling it. "Ah, tastes just as good as when we taste tested it yesterday."

"I was about to ask," Song says, sitting at the edge of his bed. "Six was trying not to be obvious about making himself a mug of this, but when I caught him, he made me one to keep me quiet. I've heard you in your room all day, so I had him pour even _more_ milk into the pot—when did you get this?"

"I managed to drag Six out to the town yesterday." He grins, pleased with himself. "He was very into the hot chocolate."

"Really?" She perks up, interested at the prospect of hearing more about the Eternals outside of duty. "What were you two up to?"

"Getting Christmas presents for the Eternals." He doesn't mind telling Song, because it would lift her spirits for the rest of the season.

Her eyes glitter with excitement. "Is what you're working on related?"

"Not really?" He scratches the back of his head. "Six was freezing all day yesterday, since he doesn't have any outfits that aren't the uniform, so I thought I'd make him something quick."

Song raises an eyebrow. "Where'd you get the fabric?"

"I went out this morning."

"Most people would just buy clothes, you know. Especially if they're already in town." She gets a weird look on her face that she can't hide behind her mug, no matter how hard she tries.

She has a point, but not once did that even occur to him. "You're right," he starts, trying to buy himself time to come up with a proper answer. "But."

"But?"

"But," he reiterates, "It… doesn't seem right for Six. Somehow?"

"And _Six_ is gonna take the concept of clothes _made_ for him better than clothes _bought_ for him?"

"Okay, he wouldn't take any present well," Siete murmurs.

"I won't stop you," she says, like a divine angel of mercy. "It's sweet." That only makes him _more_ embarrassed. "But Siete, if you're making winter clothes, can I drop off a spare set of my uniform with you? I'd like mine to be warmer, if it doesn't take too much time."

"That's fine," he says. He looks back up to her, and her glowing smile is the definition of mischief. "Are you up to something?"

"Of course not," she says. "Show me what you've sewn so far."

**ix.**

He finishes Song's uniform before he finishes Six's jacket, holding himself to the goal of delivering both at the same time. There's no reason to do so, but he can't get Song's knowing smile out of his head, and thoughts that she knows he might be going too far for just one member of the Eternals impede his progress on either project.

He knows that Six wouldn't accept any present, especially one from Siete. He tries to justify it to himself in other ways: staying warm would keep Six healthier during the season. He would perform better on missions. He would have something to wear that wasn't just his uniform. And after Siete's done with these two, he's going to ask the rest of the Eternals if they wanted any modifications done to their uniforms as well for the winter.

But more than anything, his mind always wanders back to Six, standing in the garden during the first snow of the year, his scarred hands bare for Siete to witness.

Song takes her uniform while giving him a _look_ , and he knows it's because of the other bag under his arm. Her eyes flicker to Six's door down the hallway in silent question, and Siete nods.

He walks up to Six's door, and then walks right past it. He needs something to sweeten the deal, so he goes downstairs to make a hot chocolate. He's stalling, he knows, but he's nervous in a way he can't quite pinpoint.

It doesn't take him too long to prepare the mug of hot chocolate, and he finds himself back in front of Six's door soon enough. He debates between leaving the bag there and giving it to him in person, but he wants the opportunity to explain what he's done.

Six opens the door on the first knock, as if he knew Siete were waiting there. It's dark inside his room with the curtains closed, with only one lamp and an open book on his desk. "Can I come in?" Siete asks.

Normally, he has nothing to hide, and Quatre and Nio will sometimes complain that they can hear him talking to other Eternals in their doorways instead of walking in. But this needs more privacy than handing Song her uniform. He's an unexpected guest with an unexpected present, both of which already put him at a disadvantage for Six's mood. It's for Six's sake that he asks to enter, because he won't take whatever Siete's about to do well, and it'd only get worse if their conversation is audible to everyone else.

Six steps aside, looking wary as Siete walks in and closes the door behind him. Siete hurries to put the mug of hot chocolate on the closest flat surface. "So, about a week ago when we were out, I noticed that you got cold easily."

"Excellent observational skills," Six drawls. "Befitting for your position."

"I know, right?" he says, forcing his voice to stay light as he waves a hand. "Song asked me to make her uniform warmer the other day, so while I had my sewing machine out, I thought I'd do the same for you—but I didn't actually have any of your uniforms on hand, so I just..." He trails off. There's no way he can word this.

His mouth hangs open, and then he settles on the next words. "I just made you a new jacket, instead."

God, he really wishes he could read Six's expressions.

"To clarify," Six starts, weighing each word. "Instead of walking to the room directly beside yours to ask for my uniform, you made new clothes." He attaches no emotion to his measured response, except for the same residual annoyance Siete knows of him.

"...Yes."

"I can tell you're lying again."

Siete curses the Karm clan from time to time, but cursing them for turning Six into a human lie detector is a new one. "No, really, I'm telling the truth. Mostly." Half-truths, half-lies. He rubs the back of his neck. "Okay—the only thing I lied about was Song coming to me first. She found me making you this jacket and then asked me to make hers warmer."

Six doesn't say anything. Siete wonders if he should prompt him, but there isn't anything else he can say. He coughs.

"Al _right!_ " He claps his hands once in a vain attempt to shatter the awkward mood. "I'll leave this here, and if you want me to make any set of your uniforms warmer for winter, uh... you know where to find me."

"Unlike your lack of knowledge of where to find me." Six's flat tone crushes a part of him, but he maintains his toothy grin.

"How am I supposed to find you when you're always hiding away in your shadows? Look at how dark this room is," Siete rushes to joke, leaving the bag with the jacket next to the mug of hot chocolate. He took his risk and failed, and he feels the desperate scramble to regain control elicit another laugh from him. "I'll leave you be with the dust bunnies, then."

He turns around with a salute before he can see Six's reaction.

**x.**

Siete makes a face at his empty room, shaking his head. Moving on. He grabs the basket of yarn from his closet and makes sure he has enough. He's making mittens for Quatre and Esser this year, for Gran and Lyria if he has time, and then for as many of Stardust Town's children as he can. He had some set aside for Six, too, but he tosses those in the pile for Stardust Town.

Instead of feeling disappointed about Six's rejection, he feels embarrassed that he tried in the first place. He drops a stitch as he's barely into his first row, and he pauses to laugh. It might be better that he follow Six's wishes and leave him alone for the holidays, after all.

**xi.**

He spends the entire day knitting. No use moping around with work to be done, and the thought that he's moping because Six—what, doesn't like him? It's absurd, he tells himself as he messes up yet another part of the pattern he's knitting. Of course Six wouldn't. When has he ever?

No use moping around—he makes a list of all of the things he has left to do, and then dedicates his energy to making each pattern perfct. He's almost put his earlier humiliation out of his mind by the time he leaves his room that evening to prepare for dinner, but when he opens the door, a reminder sits on the floor in the form of that same bag that he gave Six mere hours ago.

This is the logical conclusion, the bow wrapping a present, the bow at the end of his disgraceful performance earlier. Even knowing that Six wouldn't accept the gift, it takes effort for him to reboot his thoughts into something coherent through his skin tingling, his veins coursing with ice cold blood, his eyes closing to keep his expression from falling too far out of his control in front of the empty hallway.

He laughs to chase away the stinging failure of being vulnerable. Siete's intentions were good, but ultimately misplaced. Six must have had enough of people like him by now.

He picks up the bag, not expecting for it to have weight. He peeks inside.

Two of Six's uniforms, neatly folded, greet him. When he pushes them aside, he realizes the jacket is gone.

He's a goddamn _fool_ for the surge of excitement that reanimates him, he knows, but for once, the apprehension that he'll fall once again isn't enough to restrain his smile as he puts the bag on his desk.


	3. and then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like—

**xii.**

Siete nearly forgets that he has to pick up Song's necklace and Esser's barrette until the reminder falls out of his pocket.

He allows himself a smile as he entertains the thought of asking Six to come with him this time, before putting it out of mind. Siete's never cared about being on thin ice with anyone, but he hasn't talked to Six since giving him the jacket. In turn, Six hasn't sought him out, and if Six is ignoring him this close to Christmas, he can leave him be until necessary.

Six isn't awake in the kitchen this morning when he gears up to leave.

He shows up in time for the young woman to open up shop for the day. Recognizing him, she tells him she'll be back in a moment, and while he waits, he watches the passersby outside the window. The end of the second week of December brings much more shoppers than the last time he was here, but this store remains an oasis in the panic.

He watches the window, hand absentmindedly reaching for the plants in his periphery, playing with the leaves.

After taking the moment to breathe, he turns around to check the young woman's progress of finding his order. She looks like she's been back at her counter for a while now with two packages wrapped and waiting. "How's the leaf?" she asks.

"He's good."

"'He'?"

He tries not to make it obvious that he's startled by his own carelessness as he turns to her, but she raises an eyebrow anyway. (It imbues in him the same feeling as Song's grin when she found him making Six a jacket.)

He lies through his teeth, keeping an easy smile. "He named him Georgie."

It's been a while since Siete's even thought about the leaf she left with Six. He wouldn't talk about it unprompted; maybe Siete will ask when he returns to the base if he can find him before either of them are whisked away by duty once more. He wonders whether anything could have grown from it, sitting on top of the soil without water or sunlight, left alone.

"Your friend isn't with you this time?" She buys it. He's never felt more relieved in his life.

"Nah, I've bugged him enough. He wouldn't wanna come." He smiles, waving a hand.

**xiii.**

The entire way back to the base, he thinks about the leaf and its progress (or potential lack thereof). Settling in his room, he picks up his needles with full intention of continuing the scarf he's working on, but the curiosity about whether the leaf really _could_ grow and become an entire plant overcomes him.

He sets his project down to go to the room beside his, knocking before he can think better of interrupting Six unprompted. "Hey, Six. You in there?"

He's surprised that Six opens the door so readily even when he announces his presence, but then, he remembers that Six is waiting for something from him. He grimaces. "Sorry, this isn't about the uniform, I just can't stop thinking about that leaf."

Despite the unexpected intrusion, Six doesn't close the door in his face. "The unwanted responsibility that you allowed me to be burdened with?" he drawls.

"Yeah, if you wanna put it like that," Siete says, keeping the cheer in his voice.

Six sighs for a long time before he turns away. He leaves the door ajar, and Siete hopes that it means that he won't be gone for long—until from inside his room, Six makes his irritation clear when he grumbles, "Are you going to stand there all day?"

"Should've told me I could come in!" Siete says, his voice filled with more genuine cheer than teasing.

This isn't the first time he's been in Six's room, but this is the first time he's been invited, he realizes. With that one thought, the space feels different, somehow. Warmer, even though Six still keeps his curtains shut and his room free of any decorations.

He closes the door behind him, leaving only the lamplight and the glowing Christmas lights underneath the crack of the door. Six pays him no mind as he cradles the pot in his gloved hands.

Siete looks. He squints. Maybe he shouldn't have closed the door so he could have an extra light source, but it looks the same as it was two weeks ago.

When only silence passes between them, Six holds the pot closer to his face. "There are roots," he says, like it's obvious.

It's not, and then Siete leans in. It was hard to see at first under the dim light, but when he knows what to look for, he sees two threads of white extending from where the leaf was once attached to the main plant, and he balks. He wasn't expecting much from the leaf, and these roots aren't _much_ , but they weren't there when Six first got them. "Wait, for real? _Seriously_? Just putting it on top of the soil was really enough?"

"It was not yet at the point at which water would be beneficial," Six says. "Certain life must be left alone for it to flourish."

Six told him something similar the first time he was given the leaf, but this time, Siete smiles. "So you're also admitting that only works to a certain degree."

Six sighs, but it's short, and it's clipped, and—and then, Siete thinks it might have even been a _laugh_. "There is nothing to admit," Six says, signalling the end of their conversation, taking the pot back to its place on his windowsill. It's only then that Siete realizes that the curtains are parted just enough for the pot to fit.

"Alright, I'll leave you to talk to your leaf. Talking to plants helps them grow, right?"

"Only if the conversations have substance." Six tilts his head towards the door of his room, and Siete laughs, raising his hands and leaving him be.

Six closes the door behind him, but not before Siete turns his head to see his ears twitch with amusement. He stands in front of his door for a few seconds afterwards, not hiding his pleased smile from the empty hallway, and then he walks down to the kitchen with his hands in his pockets.

**xiv.**

It takes him a few more days to finish the modifications to Six's uniform, in which he doesn't see any sign of Six at all. Siete doesn't bother him past the usual seasonal annoyances; calling out to him when he passes the kitchen while he's baking Christmas cookies, throwing tinsel around his neck, minor inconveniences that both of them can brush off.

He finishes the modifications an hour before he has to leave for a mission, so instead of knocking, he leaves it by the foot of Six's door.

He still feels that same urge to annoy Six into chatting back with him, but he has matters to attend to, and Six has seen enough of him this month. More than anything, Siete wishes he could smack some sense into himself, but the holiday season leaves him softer around the edges than he should be. With a sigh, he turns away—but before he can go back into his own room to prepare, Six opens his door.

Siete glances over, and then double takes. Six is the same as always, his mask covering his face and dressed from head to toe in black, but his body language tells enough of a story—frozen in the middle of bending down to pick up the bag, head tilted to see who left it behind, meeting Siete's eyes, the purple and black jacket hanging warmly over his shoulders over a set of causal clothes Siete's never seen on him before.

Six straightens up with the bag in his hand so fast that Siete worries he might fall over. Without looking at either Siete or the contents of the bag, he mutters under his breath, "This uniform should have come earlier. Song found me and dragged me out earlier today, and I had no choice but this jacket and the clothes she had me try on—"

"I didn't see anything," Siete says before walking into his room, smiling to himself.

**xv.**

Six, he knows, has always placed emphasis on the little gestures, even if he's not aware of it. He makes it clear that the anticipation that the others feel for the season manifests for him as anxiety and avoidance, and yet Siete notices that Six has been more social in this month alone than the entire year, whether of his own volition or because the other Eternals drag him out for their own whims.

When he gets dressed and leaves for his mission, he sees Six's door ajar, Song sitting on his bed and laughing about something.

He could drop by and say hi, but they don't notice him—and that's fine. He keeps his smile to himself as he walks by, content with the knowledge that Six still has others to keep him company here. The season makes him want to bring everyone together, but that doesn't mean that Siete has to be there for all of it.

Six will reaches out on his own once he's been given enough time. That much he trusts.

**xvi.**

Siete's tired enough from his mission that he passes out early and wakes up early. The sky is cloudy, but the snow floating down to the ground balances out the gloom.

There are only three days to Christmas. Their decorated hallways greet him as he passes by, the presents underneath the tree look like they've been shifted by someone's curiosity, and in the kitchen, Six stands with the jacket over his shoulders, his arms not in the sleeves, the last dregs of snow melting from the ends of his hair.

He holds his mug of hot chocolate while looking out the window. The only part of him that moves when Siete enters are his ears towards the sound. Only the top half of his mask is on this time as he tilts the mug to his lips, red with the cold.

It's a tranquil morning. The dampening effect of a fresh snowfall keeps his heart steady. Siete pours himself the last of the hot chocolate in the pot, and a quick look in the bag reveals that it's empty.

"Nothing left," Siete says, keeping his voice low as he tosses the empty bag in the garbage. Of the few Eternals that haven't left the base for Christmas, none of them them are early risers or light sleepers. The only risk he takes by speaking any louder than he does is shattering this moment, and for once, he wants to try preserving it.

"You have a secret source in your room." Six matches his volume, low and hidden beneath the fragile moment. "Unless you were planning on having me forget that detail."

"Not in the slightest." He hazards a look down to Six and is rewarded with seeing a small smile, the curl of his lips upwards at the corners, before he hides it behind his mug. "That's still our secret."

"I don't know how I feel about sharing anything with you, but for the sake of certain interests, some discomforts must be cast aside."

He can hope that Six is joking, but this bubble of time is muted enough that he can see the bluntness of his words for what he means. The things Six says always sound like he's incapable of lying to either himself or to others around him, no matter what.

He chuckles. "Your kindness for this holiday season is overwhelming, Six."

"Spare me."

**xvii.**

With Six beside him, Siete watches the snow fall. But this time, when he accepts this disobedient heart of his thundering in his ears, it quiets until it becomes as one with the silence they share.

**xviii.**

"You got any plans for the day?" Siete asks, leaning against the counter beside Six, washing his mug up in the sink.

"If you plan on subjecting me to more social torture, then I'm busy."

They return to routine. The sun is rising, Siete can hear movement upstairs, and Six fits the rest of his mask back on now that he's done with the hot chocolate.

Siete shrugs. "I'm just making conversation. I don't have plans for the rest of the afternoon, but tonight, I'm off to Stardust Town to help them prepare for Christmas." He pauses. "If you wanna come along."

"I don't think that invitation is yours to make."

"Hey, the twins told everyone they'd be bringing Eternals to help, not just me."

"I must decline."

This time, the rejection brings a smile to his lips. It would be for the best that they don't spend more time together, for now. Siete's jokes have become more teasing, and that's only so many steps away from fond. While it's the season for merriment and cheer, Six doesn't make it a habit to seek it out, and Siete can only give so much before he deals irreversible damage to their already fragile balance.

It's no lie that he wants to get closer to Six. That much is a half-truth, like it always is. He chuckles to himself as he takes a sip of his hot chocolate, catching Six's curious glance and shaking his head to dismiss it.

He'd gone overboard trying to bring cheer to Six this Christmas, hiding behind excuses: he did this because Six being an Eternal, because Six was a friend. In the end, the only explanation he needed was the realization that he'd went and caught feelings for Six.

He stays where he is, holding his empty mug while watching Six wear his jacket properly, bundling it up around him. He hopes it's warm enough for whatever he needs to do today.

Six starts walking out of the kitchen—and then, he stops in the doorway.

Siete tries to hide his smile when Six looks over his shoulder, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. Beneath the mask and above his collar, the exposed skin of his neck is a shade of red that Siete can't tear his eyes away from. "However."

Six clears his throat before turning to face him once more. His ears lay flat against the side of his head, but he keeps his chin high, high enough for Siete to see how high the blush rises. "Before you depart for Stardust Town, I may be forced to visit your room for emergency provisions."

Siete tilts his head. He knows that the smile on his face lacks mischief, because his entire body relaxes with the simple action of smiling at him. Six will always reach out when left alone for long enough so he can take root. They just need to find the right window of time for both of them to exist and meet in the middle, somewhere between Siete allowing himself to be vulnerable and Six allowing himself to extend.

"You know my door's always open," Siete tells him. "Just say the word and I'll be there."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic and chapter titles from the song _Somethin’ Stupid_. Heh.
> 
> shoutout to my friends to whomst i said "oh these titles are awful" and they immediately went "No this is excellent. Continue"


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